Fever
by Sanguinary Tears
Summary: It seems Mr. Sweeney Todd isn't as immune to the weather as he thought. A oneshot between Mr. Todd and Mrs. Lovett


Please forgive any out-of-character-ness! This is my first _Sweeny Todd_ fic, so please be nice. A one-shot with a small bit of fluff between Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett. Please review and tell me what you think. And I apology in advance if it's crappy.

_

* * *

_

_Fever_

Mrs. Lovett paused right in the middle of rolling the dough for the pies, and noticed how silent it was from up above. She strained to hear any movement from Mr. Todd, but it bothered her greatly that she did not hear his faint footsteps pacing the room. Fearing the worst, Mrs. Lovett put down the roller and brushed her flour covered hands on her skirt, and quickly stepped out of the kitchen and up the stairs leading to shop above. She knocked on the door and called out gently, "Mr. T, are you alright, love? Why with all the silence?"

When she received no response from him, she opened the door and stepped inside. The door gave a low moan and the bell on the door gave a small jingle before she quietly closed it behind her. The room was dark and deadly cold. She rubbed her arms to keep warm and looked about the quiet space.

"Mr. Todd, where are you hiding?" She walked towards the middle of the room, and nearly had a heart attack at the sight of him shivering to death in his chair with his chin tucked to his breast and his lips a frightening shade of blue, and with only his jacket to protect him from the cold draft of the morning.

Mr. Sweeney Todd was not one to care for the weather, but his opinion soon changed with the turn of the day's climate. He snapped open his eyes and saw that it was Mrs. Lovett who had entered. As much strength and dignity he could muster, he sat erect in his chair and said coldly with a slight tremble, "What are you doing here, Mrs. Lovett?" Snapping out of her trace, she hurried to his side and said, "Why Mr. Todd! You're freezing to death! We must get you downstairs and next to the fire to warm you up quickly."

She helped him up, but he brushed her away. He gave her a sharp look and returned stiffly, "Leave me. I'll be fine."

"Now Mr. T, come on downstairs and 'ave a pint of gin next to the fire. That'll 'ave you nice and toasty in no time, love." Mrs. Lovett said, trying to get him up from his chair and away from the gloomy and chilly place, where she was sure he would catch his death. He looked away from her and muttered more to himself then to her, "No, I can't leave. Judge Turpin might come while I'm away and he'll escape me for the second time. I can't let that happen again, Mrs. Lovett."

Mrs. Lovett knelt besides him and placed a gloved hand on his, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"There, there, love. There's no need to worry your 'ead about that. If he does come, we'll see him coming down the street and then you can go up and 'ave your revenge." She reassured him.

Her words seemed to slightly apply to him. He slowly turned his hollow eyes to her and nodded his head. The idea did not pertain to him much. He would prefer waiting in his chair surrounded by the cold then leave and let his chance of vengeance escape, but if he died of frostbite, his fifteen years of imprisonment and craving for revenge would be in vain. He reluctantly allowed her to tow him out the door and down the stairs and in to the pie shop.

And all this time, his _clever friend_ was in his hand. It was the only source of warmth he felt. Mrs. Lovett's touch did not count for much. If anything, it made him feel colder. Mrs. Lovett ushered him into the parlor-room and sat him down next to the fire. She grabbed a blanket from her bed, and wrapped it around him. She did not seem to notice the cold glance he registered her when her fingers gently brushed against his skin.

"And what of that pint of gin Mrs. Lovett?" Mr. Todd reminded her curtly. It was the first thing he said all this time. At hearing him, Mrs. Lovett jumped and said, "Oh yes the gin! I'll go get it, love. You just stay 'ere and warm yourself." She left him alone for a few minutes while she hunted down the bottle of gin. The last time she had seen it Tobias had been busying himself with it.

Mr. Todd stared down at his razor and snapped it open with a graceful flick of his wrist. The blade gleamed beautifully with the fire reflecting off its quicksilver shine. He opened and closed it mechanically, not at all fearing he would harm himself. After so many years of handling a razor, it left him with the confidence that he could place his trust in it. While his hands caressed the razor, he was lost in his thought. All his thoughts revolved only on extracting his vengeance, his dead Lucy, and his dear Johanna. The fever that was beginning to weak him, made it harder for him to keep his thoughts and eyes in perspective.

The world of raging flames and the twinkling of his razor soon lost all clarity and he was shortly imprisoned within the confinement of his nightmares' mercy. Right as his head hit the soft cushions on the settee, Mrs. Lovett came bustling into the parlor-room, humming a cheerful tone with the glass of gin in her hands. She gasped when she saw him sleeping. The razor he held so tenderly in his hand dropped to the floor with a heavy metallic thud.

Mrs. Lovett hurried to his side and set the glass of gin on a side-table and placed her hand on his forehead. Her eyes widen in disbelief. How long had he been enduring the cold? He was burning up with a high fever. His cheeks had the faintest color of pink, indicating how severe the cold had affected him. Mrs. Lovett wrapped the blanket more closely to his inert form, and was surprised when she noticed how tense he was. Even when his eyes closed for a small amount of time for sleep, he was still alert and plagued with the ghosts from his unjust past.

It pained her to see him like this, but there wasn't much she could do but sit there besides him and watch over him all night if it was required. There would be no business today. She would close the shop and wait for him to get better. Mrs. Lovett bent down and cautiously picked up the razor. She stared down at it with a small hint of apprehension, but she quickly closed it and placed it back into its owner's pocket. Mr. Todd would no doubt be looking for the reassurance of the cool silver in his hands once he woke up.

With a sigh, she climbed to her feet and was about to go turn the sign on the window telling everyone the shop was closed, when he abruptly snatched her wrist. She gave a small yelp of surprise and looked down to find Mr. Todd staring at her with dispassionate eyes.

"Oh, Mr. Todd! You nearly gave me another heart attack!" she informed him. Her free hand was pressed over her beating heart. He said nothing to her comment. She gently pulled her hand from his, but he tightened his grasp.

"Where were you going, Mrs. Lovett?" he asked nonchalantly. His eyes never left hers, holding her captive with the subtle twinkle in his dark eyes. Mrs. Lovett forced herself not to shiver from the look he was giving her. At times the way his eyes gleamed frightened her.

"I was bout to close the shop, Mr. T since, well to be honest; I don't think I can handle looking over you and baking them pies today till you gets better, love." Mrs. Lovett said.

Mr. Todd's brows shot upwards, he stared at her for a long time before he released her wrist and stood. He fixed his attention towards the blazing fireplace and said darkly, "That will not be necessary. I'll be returning to my shop and wait for customers to come seeking a shave, and with any luck, the judge will possibly come today. A frivolous fever like this will not prevent me from doing my duty."

Mrs. Lovett frowned and stood in front of him. "Ah, Mr. Todd, you're as stubborn as a mule. You need to rest. There isn't any need to be rushing to your death!" Mr. Todd suddenly turned round and regarded her with a cynical smirk and a dangerous flare in his eyes.

"Rest? I can _rest _all I want when I'm dead, Mrs. Lovett. For now, I must continue living for the sole purpose of killing that damned judge and avenging my dear sweet Lucy and Johanna! Nothing more!" He snarled angrily.

He made for the door leading to his shop, but his legs did not appreciate the sudden command, and he soon found himself acquainted with the floor. He snarled in rage and tried to stand up, but the fever was draining his strength quicker then he had anticipated. Without asking for her help, Mrs. Lovett helped him up, and as she was about to return him to the settee to rest, she flipped the sign over to 'Close'.

She lowered him back onto the settee and once more covered his shaky form with the blanket and handed him the glass of gin to drink. He accepted it without uttering a word. Mrs. Lovett took a seat besides him, much to his displeasure. He idly swirled the glass in his hands and looked impassively into it. They both fell into an uncomfortable silence until she broke it.

"Would you like something to eat, love? Y' know, to bring down the fever." She asked anything to make him feel better. Mr. Todd shook his head. "No." Was his curt reply. He craved not food, only blood and vengeance. The only thing from the two that was easy to come across was blood, but the latter was proving more difficult to achieve. With each day the judge continued to inhabit the world, was enough to make Sweeney Todd's passion for the kill that much greater. If only that fool of Antony hadn't stormed into his shop and spoiled the moment, then…

Then what? What would he do once he killed Judge Turpin? He had never looked beyond his desire for vengeance. Was there anymore reason to live now that his dear Lucy was dead, and his Johanna thought him a stranger? The only things he would have left would be his _friends_ and Mrs. Lovett…

"Instead of daydream, Mr. Todd, you should be sleeping. Once you wake up and feel better, you can stare off into space all you want. For now, get some shut eye. I'll be right 'ere when you wake up, love." She patted his hand. He was indifferent to her touch. Or at least he pretended to be.

As much as he tried to ignore her touch this time, her warm hand against his cold touch brought some subtle comfort. Damn fever! Why did the morning have to be so cold that it weakened him? He sighed in frustration and lay back down. Mr. Todd closed his eyes and allowed himself this one time to yield to his fatigue. He drifted off to sleep shortly after his eyes closed with nothing to plague his mind. It was strange that her mere touch had that sort of effect on his conscience. When his chest rose and fell in a proper rhythm, Mrs. Lovett sighed and watched him sleep.

She placed her head in her hands and she fell asleep besides him. Sweeney wasn't as asleep as she had thought. He opened one eye and saw her besides him on the settee. He shook his head and muttered evenly, "So much for staying awake and watching over something that does _not_ need to be treated like a child." For this once, he would make an exception of having her so close to him. He would just have to wake up before she did. And again he closed his eyes and fell asleep.


End file.
